King, Always
by the shadow proves the sunshine
Summary: When did Peter first become a soldier, a knight, a king? Lucy, Edmund, and Susan all recall a specific event that showed Peter’s true character.


**King, Always**

**Summary: **When did Peter first become a soldier, a knight, a king? Lucy, Edmund, and Susan all recall a specific event that showed Peter's true character.

**Author's Note: This song was semi-inspired by the 3 Doors Down song, "Citizen Soldier." **

**Lucy**

Peter has always been my closest sibling. According to mum, even before I was born, Peter was extremely protective. During the last month of the pregnancy, Peter watched our mum's every move, making sure she didn't stumble, trip, and didn't stress herself. She even claims that Peter offered to wash the dishes for her so she wouldn't strain herself, even though the five-year-old Peter couldn't even imagine of actually being able to reach the sink.

Peter is protective. There is no doubting that, and there never has been. He protects strangers he's never ever meet, and of course is even more overbearing around his own family. I have to admit that it does make me feel loved, even if also makes me want to knock some sense into him some time. Maybe by the time I'm an adult Peter will learn how to balance his affections, but I some how doubt it.

However, there is one defining moment in my mind of when my brother became a true knight. It was long before Narnia was ever found, long before we even dreamed of being in the midst of war. I was four, Edmund was five, and Peter was eight. Edmund and I were playing outside, bouncing and throwing a ball around too close to the house. Peter was with us. He chastised us about playing near the house, but Edmund always tried to defy any type of authority, and while I knew Peter was right on this one, I was having too much fun.

Edmund kept telling Peter to knock it off and go away, but of course he stayed, trying to persuade us from moving away from the house. The entire ordeal seems quite silly now as we're all older- all it would have taken is for me and Edmund to move a few meters. And yet, we didn't.

Inevitably, our ball went through a first-floor window. Our Dad came running out, understandably furious. Edmund and I shared a nervous look, and Peter just sighed. Then he caught me out of the corner of his eye and gave a small smile.

"Who did this?" Dad asked, "Who!?"

"I did." Peter answered suddenly, his voice sounding much more courageous than the average eight-year-old's. Both Edmund and I breathed a sigh of relief. However, we were both confused as to why Peter would take the blame for us. Not so much for us as it was for me, I think. Even as a young child, Peter was much too noble to let his younger sister get in trouble with something, though he knew the consequences of standing up for me.

That was the day my brother became a knight.

**Edmund**

Peter's heroic, noble gestures never registered with me until post-Narnia, though looking back I can see they were all there for as long as I can remember. Even the childhood Peter knew what it meant to be courageous.

Even when I was a beast, he always tried to help me. Now, don't get me wrong- Peter is no saint. He often grew tired of my childhood antics and flared up. But he never gave up, even when other members of my family did.

I have followed my brother into many battles and almost joined him to the death many times. I have cried over what I thought may be a dead body on a field more times than I would have ever imagined possible.

He has become my closest confident and best friend. His is my brother, and he lives up to every standard of the definition. He always has, even when I was too blind to see it.

It was in England, not in Narnia, when his character first shone through so brilliantly, I only wish I had noticed it. I would yell and fight with him in the morning, but in the afternoon he would always come to my rescue when the other boys were trying to beat me up. I always counted on him. I just didn't realize it.

I remember learning that the name Peter means rock. It in an apt description. Peter has become the foundation of our family, and it is strong. Never mind the fire or rain poured on top of him, he rarely budges. He may not be self-assured, but he has no reason not to be. He is the best High King that could have been given to Narnia, despite his age, and I am proud to be his brother.

Lucy says she first saw Peter's character-defining qualities in England. I only wish I was able to say the same. My realization of the person my brother truly is did not come until Narnia. It was at the moment that I came crawling back to my family, when I realized that Peter truly forgave me with the grace of a king. It was at that moment when he embraced me. I could tell he was mad at me, but for the first time, I realized why. He hurt so fiercely when he thought he failed me. It eventually washed away, and there we were, just simply two brothers. It was at that moment, not later on some battlefield or at a coronation, that he became my high king.

**Susan**

To be truthful, I have never felt as close to Peter as either Lucy or Edmund have. It may be due to the closeness of our ages, or just our personality differences. Lucy looks up to Peter as a big brother, and Edmund considers Peter his best friend, which they are.

I respect my brother. He carries the weight of the world on himself and has never failed us. But I don't look up to him, and we rarely agree on anything. Lucy will do anything Peter asks her to, and it works the same way. Edmund and Peter seem to share one mind sometimes. They don't seem to need to talk to understand each other. Peter and I, on the other hand, rarely agree and while we are both respectful about it, it does have a tendency to put a bit of strain on our sibling bonds.

Peter was made for Narnia, though, no matter how much I may hold that against him. Lucy carries Narnia's faith. Peter carries the strength.

Peter has an emotional strength that can be handled better than any other I know. He carries burdens by himself, every day, with such grace and ease that he may as well be waltzing with his troubles. Peter is as reliable as time. He doesn't consider what it's in it for himself- he just does things when he knows he should. He stands up for us. He guards us.

I have been courted by two young men. While Peter didn't and still doesn't like the idea of me going out, there was only one he seemed protective about. He just had some sort of intuition about him, which I waved off as brotherly protectiveness.

I remember that night so well. Thomas, my date, had been drinking casually off and on all evening, but I thought nothing of it. We laughed, we talked, we had a nice, normal time. However, as he was walking me to the doorway of my house, he began to act strange.

"Let's go, Susan." Thomas whispered, an unkind smile on his face.

I laughed at him- surely he was joking. "Where?"

"Away. Anywhere, everywhere." His voice was growing more excited, but he kept it to a whispered.

I pushed him away. "Thomas, go home and sleep this off."

I expected him to either give up or plead a bit more, but his next more surprised me. Suddenly, with no prior warning, he grasped my left wrist with an iron fist.

"Thomas, what are you doing?" I replied, more than just a little angry.

"You're coming with me."

Now I was both angry and frightened, a large combination of adrenaline. I tried to yank my hand away, but all I did was loosen his grip which he quickly re-tightened.

"C'mon." He whispered, his voice still low.

"No, let go of me!" I screamed, once again trying to regain my wrist.

Suddenly, the front door flew open and I saw someone rush down the steps, though I couldn't tell which of my siblings it was.

"Get away from her!" Peter yelled furiously, a murderous look in his eyes. I knew that Thomas should run if he didn't want the massive punch that was coming to him.

Thomas stopped and sized Peter up quietly. Making up his mind, he let go of my wrist. I subconsciously rubbed the raw skin.

Peter's eyes were still blazing with fire as he looked at me, but I knew his anger was not toward me. The only time Peter's eyes lit up like a burning building was when he was worried about someone he loved.

"Are you all right Su?" he asked quietly.

"I'm fine." I said. I was, but that didn't mean I wasn't still a bit shaken up.

Peter put his arm around me, glancing at my wrist.

"What exactly did he want anyway?"

"For me to go with him." I replied as we started walking back to the house.

"Where?"

"I don't know . . . I doubt he knew. He was drunk." Peter just nodded.

I always knew Peter had been there for me. It wasn't the first time he had used his big brother power to try and shield me from every possible danger. But it was something about that time . . . it was as if I had expected Peter's nobility and chivalry to fade with age, and it was then, when Peter was assuredly an adult, that I realize the Peter I knew would always be the same. Peter is our older brother, knight, and High King, always.


End file.
